‘Was that him in the bar, by the way? Ginny seemed pretty certain.’
‘Nah,’ she said, turning around to face him. ‘I told her she’d got it wrong.’ She looped a finger around her necklace, lifting the pendant out on top of her t-shirt. An unconscious gesture, one that he’d noticed her doing before.
He reached out to touch it, just as she slipped it back inside her t-shirt. ‘What’s with the necklace? I haven’t seen you wear that before.’
‘It’s new.’
‘Ginny had a new necklace on too. A flashy one with a green stone. You two go for a girly shopping day, did you?’
‘I didn’t even notice she had a new one.’
He frowned. ‘Only you two would decide to wear fancy new necklaces on a day out hiking.’ He shook his head. ‘Women. Anyway,’ he continued, ‘we should get going. If that freak is hiding out in the woods, we need to get some distance between us.’
Tristan grabbed the torch with one hand and took Cat’s hand with the other, and led them into the forest. He flicked the torch off and they stood still for a moment. The darkness had swallowed them whole; the moon was unable to penetrate the dense canopy of trees. All he could hear was the sound of them breathing, and then, after a moment, the quiet sounds of the woods around them. Things skittering in the undergrowth. The air was damp and dank, as he flicked the torch on again and led her deeper into the trees.
‘It’s not far. Stay close.’
He did his best to ignore the multitude of noises that seemed to be growing and pulsing around them. Like the one that sounded like a distant scream, that he told himself was just another bird.
Thirty-Two
He enjoyed the darkness. He enjoyed acting on instinct. Seeing where the path might take him. But he knew exactly where he was going right now. It was a well-trodden route, despite the rougher parts that might make the average day-hiker a little wary. Some people ran this route. It wasn’t that hard.
But the little flock of sheep were making hard work of it. The young blonde whining her way from start to finish.
Well, not anymore.
He’d thought about hiking down to where he was sure she must’ve fallen, maybe to make sure that she wasn’t coming back. But there was no need. That fall was enough to end anyone.
He’d been a little surprised that it had happened there. Couldn’t work out if it was intentional or a nasty accident. Wrong place, wrong time.
Poor little blondie.
But he had no interest in her. It was the other one he wanted. And she was still around.
He sniffed the air, hoping she might be nearby. But he knew she wasn’t. Not yet.
But soon.
He heard the sounds of a waterfall nearby and detoured off the main track. He licked his lips, tasting salt. He was thirsty.
He climbed down to the edge of the pool where fresh water tumbled down the rocks, and he cupped his hands under it and drank. It was cold. Delicious. It made his head hurt, but he liked it.
Then he found a flat stone and sat there for a while, just listening to the sounds of the water. The sounds of the trees, and the undergrowth. The scurry of small things as they darted around, searching for food. For shelter. For smaller things to eat. He cupped his hands and drank more water, letting it cascade down his chest, the coolness soothing his hot, sweaty body.
He heard voices in the distance. The snapping of branches.
They were coming.
He couldn’t wait to see her again.
Thirty-Three
SATURDAY NIGHT
Tristan was trying to be a hard man about it all, but in the thick, dark woods, he was just as scared as Cat. He kept a tight hold on her hand, the torchlight shining a few feet ahead of them, giving them a small arc of light – just enough to make sure they didn’t trip over a protruding root, or a rock. Or something else. He wasn’t convinced they were alone in this section of the woods, but he wasn’t going to bring it up again. For now, the sounds seemed consistent with wildlife and he hoped that was all they had to contend with. There were no really dangerous animals in these mountains. There was unlikely to be anything that would attack them. He was just a bit worried about startling something that was out sniffing around and giving themselves heart attacks in the process.
There’d been enough excitement for one day.
He’d surprised himself with what he did to Paul, but he told himself it was a survival instinct. Paul had been on to them, he was sure, and despite his meek exterior, Tristan had no doubt that Paul would’ve attacked to save himself. He just hadn’t been quick enough to realise the threat.